Of a Different Kind
by Symbioticdeath
Summary: They were burning time in the board room until their meeting with a SHIELD liaison and a consultant from Stark Industries began. For weapon13WhiteFang. Human Target/The Avengers crossover. Darcy Lewis/ Guerrero


This is for weapon13WhiteFang who got me onto the Darcy/Guerrero ship on tumblr. Enjoy!

* * *

"Those are poisoned," Guerrero said without looking up from the munitions box he'd been rifling through. Ames tossed the chocolate chip cookie back into the tin it came in. "You might want to go wash your hands, dude."

Chance stifled a laugh as their resident thief glared at Guerrero before going to wash her hands. He lost control when his friend reached over to stuff one of the cookies into his mouth. No one really questioned it when the care packages started showing up, if they could be called care packages. Every two weeks an antique steamer trunk appeared in the lobby. The security feed always showed the empty lobby one second then the trunk there the next second. Always locked with a Post-it slapped on its lid, a lush lip print in blood red smacked on the yellow paper with 'Guerrero' written in swirling letters under it.

The contents, if the short man decided reveal them, ranged from weaponry to books and odd pieces of technology. Winston still refused to acknowledge how their new ear pieces came from one of Guerrero's care packages. This package contained a dozen flash bang grenades, a plastic container the size of a shoe box, several books with their pages ear marked and bits of paper sticking out of them, several mystery munitions boxes and the tin of chocolate chip cookies.

They were burning time in the board room until their meeting with a SHIELD liaison and a consultant from Stark Industries began. Ilsa insisted they make connections with agencies and corporations who were not out to kill or maim them. Chance had a feeling she neglected to tell Guerrero due to the exploding El Do/CIA incident and just simply called a meeting knowing the freelancer would show up if the details were vague enough.

Game. Set. Match to Ilsa.

Ames returned to her seat between him and Guerrero and pointedly glared at her mentor, who just ignored his protégé. Something in the munitions box began to tick then stopped. The thief tensed up while the freelancer ignored her.

The elevator dinged before Tony Stark, disheveled billionaire former playboy, with his trade mark sun glasses on his face and his bespoke suit perfectly pressed, sauntered into the room. He swaggered with a girl in tow. She was flanked by two men, both blonde but one taller than the other. Chance sat up in his seat when he realized who the taller of the two was.

Steve Rogers AKA Captain America pulled out a chair opposite Chance's team for the girl behind Stark. The living legend dressed himself differently from the dark suited short blond next to him in a checked shirt and khakis, golden hair parted on the side. He'd heard about the attack on Manhattan a couple of weeks after it'd occurred since the team had been up to their asses on a job in Rio.

He realized he also knew the other man. Not personally but he knew the type. His side arm on his right side indicated left handedness, body at a rigid attention, eyes hidden under dark sunglasses made for combat in a desert rather than a board room. An agent through and through but the girl with them didn't scream government.

If she did work for an agency, they'd have her as a honey pot. Her body all classic curves wrapped in black pinstripe, long legs encased in expensive material. Sensible boots, no heel, on her feet. Under the suit jacket and stretched over her full breasts, a white shirt with black lettering proclaimed 'I Heart Hawkeye.' Her almost too blue eyes surveyed the room and stopped on Guerrero then widened so the smile left her lush lips.

Lips painted in the same shade of crimson on Guerrero's Post-it notes. Chance glanced over at his fellow mercenary. Guerrero was still, too still and staring at the girl. His hands in the munitions box not moving instead of going for the blades in his belt, he gently placed the box back in the trunk at his feet.

"Let's get this over with," Stark said, pulled out a chair in order to sprawl in it. "As you all know I'm Tony Stark. Lovely to see you again, Mrs. Pucci. This is Darcy Lewis, SHIELD liaison and Avengers handler. You probably have recognized The Star Spangled Man with a Plan, Steve Rogers. Short and threatening is Clint 'Jackboot' Barton."

"Always a pleasure, Mr. Stark," Ilsa replied. Chance heard the judgment in 'Mister' which coincided with a look of obvious displeasure when Stark put his feet on the table. "It is always good to make new friends, Mr. Rogers. Agent Barton. Miss Lewis, my late husband always spoke highly of SHIELD and your director."

"Just Steve, Ma'am," Captain America said with a slight blush. He pushed in Lewis' chair before resuming his place to her right.

Agent Barton just nodded and took up the post at Darcy's left.

"Please call me Darcy. I'm more like an informal agent. They needed to give me a title so I could work as the official Avengers handler," Darcy said as she shoved Stark's feet off the table. "I feel like a glorified babysitter most of the time."

"I can say I know the feeling quite well," Ilsa said and walked to stand behind her team. Chance didn't jump when she placed a hand on his shoulder. "This is Christopher Chance. Next to him is Miss Ames. Across from you is Mr. Guerrero. Mr. Winston is to your right."

"Let's get this show on the road," Stark announced. He reached into his pocket for his Starkphone, began to tap away at the screen. "As you know Stark Industries no longer makes weapons but currently specializes in alternative energy. I have some toys lying around that could be of some use to you. Word on the street has it you're buying from the Israelis; great craftsmanship but horrible instructions unless you read Hebrew. I need tax write offs so consider my contribution a donation."

Chance pinched the bridge of his nose.

It was going to be a long meeting.

* * *

Clint watched Guerrero watch Darcy Lewis. SHIELD had a file on Christopher Chance and his merry men as well as their exploits. After his temporary "death" Coulson insisted on befriending the rag tag group since he couldn't have the Avengers on discrete cases. After the Battle of Manhattan they were too well known even him and Tasha, who were on permanent hiatus from SHIELD.

"What Tony means is he respects what you do here, Mrs. Pucci, and wants to help contribute to your cause," Darcy said. She snatched Tony's phone from him and slipped it into the right pocket of her jacket. "SHIELD would like to extend access to their network to your team."

"So they can spy on us?" Guerrero broke his silence but never looked away from Darcy's face.

"No, we already have access to your files. Very sloppy security if JARVIS found them in under an hour," Darcy replied. "What SHIELD is offering is access to our satellites and surveillance feeds. You wouldn't be able to access our servers and a block would be put in place so we couldn't access yours. Think of it as a trust exercise."

"Don't do trust exercises, dude," Guerrero said and rested his arms on the table.

"Don't think it's your call, dude," Darcy mocked back. "What exactly do you do here?"

"Guerrero is our interrogation specialist," Winston interrupted. Clint pegged the man as a former cop and tried to hide his own smirk because when Darcy decided to throw down with someone, there were casualties. "Much to my dismay, I have to state he is very good at his job even if he lacks social skills."

"We all should totes play to our strengths," Darcy agreed. "For the first month of your team having access to SHIELD's network there will be an agent on site to act as an instruction manual."

"Are you going to be that agent?" Chance asked, genuinely curious.

"No, I have to go back to New York to work in a highly secure building with a giant compensating A slapped on the side of it," Darcy said. "You will be getting one of the baby agents, try not break them."

"Compensating? Really, Mister Darcy?" Tony said and raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were beyond such insults."

"You blew up my IPod trying to create a Portal Gun for science," Darcy retorted complete with finger quotes. Clint shook his head then rolled his eyes, so much for professionalism. "I'm still a bit bitter."

Clint felt Steve tense next to him, ready to spring if Tony and Darcy started up. The archer had decided to wear his sun glasses so he could survey the room without giving away what his eyes focused on in the room. He almost wished he hadn't worn them when Guerrero's intense stare stayed locked on Darcy. There wasn't any hostility in the man's gaze but what seemed like confusion mixed with an iota hurt. Clint knew all about Darcy and Guerrero's complex pre-relationship.

Since Darcy lived with him, Clint had been drawn into the elaborate almost Spy vs. Spy routine Darcy created. According to her she'd met Guerrero in Puente Antiguo pre-Thor and giant robot of fiery doom when he'd stopped there on his way to Louisiana. They'd been forced to share a table at the diner. It'd been overcrowded and ever since then Darcy courted the older man. Nearly a year later they were still moving at a snail's pace.

Till his dying day he'd deny credit for the idea of care packages. After the fifth one, Guerrero sent something back in the trunk, which he'd send to a PO Box in Brooklyn. A slip of paper taped to the bottom of the trunk. In her phone Darcy put it under 'Krieger' rather than 'Guerrero' even though both words meant the same thing but in different languages. Ever since the fifth time, the Freelancer sent more things back including an invitation to a child's birthday party the month before. Clint remembered Darcy's squeal of delight waking him up before she freaked out about what to get a boy under ten. They settled on a set of limited edition Avengers action figures. She reported back they'd been a hit.

Sure he thought Guerrero was dangerous, not any more dangerous than he was but the shaggy haired man would never hurt Darcy unless she hurt him first. And Clint knew the other man to be reasonable. Darcy accuracy with her taser also helped reassure him she could handle things.

"Not my fault the calibration was off," Tony huffed.

"Or the fact the physics are impossible," Darcy finished.

"Ma'am, the meeting," Clint said in hope to get things back on track and to save what little face remaining.

Or so he hoped.

* * *

Ames stared at Captain Gorgeous. He courteously looked everywhere but at her after she'd unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt. Next to her Chance sat ramrod straight as Mrs. Pucci and Agent Lewis worked out the details of their tentative alliance. She turned to look at Guerrero. Her mentor flexed his hands repeatedly on the tabletop. She guessed it had to do with the fact there were two government spooks and two Avengers in the building; both associated with things he despised.

Creepy, that's what she called short and silent, went still then leaned down to whisper something in Darcy's ear but pushed some hair back to do so. A very intimate gesture in Ames' opinion and she tried not to comment on how Guerrero froze. Odd. Her mentor never gave away anything about having a girlfriend. She knew about his son. But a girlfriend? No, that would mean Guerrero could actually connect on a non-threatening level with another human being.

"If you would excuse us for just a moment," Darcy said, stood and dragged Tony Stark's chair into the area near the elevators. "Make it fast, Barton."

Captain Gorgeous and Creepy followed her. The two men and Darcy listened to something Creepy explained with gestures. Stark went alert the second the agent stopped. The billionaire left his chair, Darcy gave him the confiscated phone back. He began to make calls while pressing the button for the elevator rapidly.

"We'll keep you in the loop, dollface," Captain Gorgeous promised then kissed Darcy on the top of her head. "What's the ETA on wheels, Stark?"

"Two minutes. Happy was grabbing coffee. Darcy, contact JARVIS and he'll get a hold of Pep," Stark said. "Lovely meeting you all!"

"Keep me informed, Clint," Darcy ordered. "I'll finish up here then head back to New York."

The thief watched Creepy nod. The agent reached into his jacket to off his sidearm to his liaison. She shook her head then looked back at the table.

Not at her or Chance.

But directly at Guerrero, who sat back in his seat.

Weird.

* * *

Darcy watched her grandfather and best friend follow her bro/sometime boss on to the elevators, took a deep breath in, squared her shoulders and turned to get back to the meeting. She could handle this. Her plan consisted of keeping her cool to finish the negotiations then dealing with her almost boyfriend and his pathological hatred of all things coated in a Federal suit. The former Intern marched back to the table.

"Sorry about that. Avengers business," Darcy said but decided to stay standing. "I have to make this short and sweet, Mrs. Pucci. Once my team is in the field I'm needed back to base in order to coordinate. Would it be more convenient for you to contact me at a later date?"

"I believe I speak for my team when I say yes, Darcy. Should I call you a car to take you to the airport?" Mrs. Pucci asked. Darcy always admired the graceful woman for her good works and how she was strong enough to come back from her husband's murder to do good in the world. The younger woman briefly entertained the idea of introducing her to Pepper and the rest of the gang.

Guerrero tilted his head towards the door. An obvious offer for a ride to where she needed to go as well as an opportunity for him to interrogate her and an opportunity for Darcy to clear the air between them. She knew about the incident with the CIA and the rogue agent finding his weak spot. So she purged every mention of Jack from every file she could find in the alphabet soup of government hierarchy. A surprise for the next time they saw each other again.

The former Intern held no illusion that the guy she was in 'it's complicated' with didn't do the things listed in deleted files. Her best friend's previous occupation consisted of performing assassinations and espionage. Steve used to run spec ops during WW2. She saw a different side of Guerrero at Jack's birthday party; loving father looked good on the older man. She worked for both a super-secret agency and Tony 'I am Iron Man' Stark. To add onto a veritable pile of First Fight material included how she was Captain America's granddaughter. And she wanted to date a guy who saved people as well as whose hobbies ranged from forgery to torture.

"No thank you. I have to meet my ride at the emergency rally point," Darcy said. Guerrero raised an eyebrow. She pulled out one of the plain business cards on ivory card stock. In Garamond font was her work cell phone number. She placed the paper square on the glass. "It's been fun. So peace out, Girl Scouts."

"I will call you, Darcy," Mrs. Pucci said and came around the table to take the shorter woman's arm in her own. "Let me escort you out."

She allowed herself to be led to the stairs.

"Not to be so bold but if I may ask a favor of you Darcy," Mrs. Pucci began as she and Darcy crossed the lobby. "I've been a great admirer of Pepper Potts but have never had a chance to meet her."

"You should come to Firing Range Friday this week," Darcy offered. Every Friday all the women associated with the Avengers gathered at the firing range in the Avenger's tower for drinks, guns and to discuss the book they were all reading. "This week's book is _The Night Circus_."

"I am afraid I've missed your point," the taller woman looked confused as they stopped in front of the glass reinforced doors.

"Every Friday us girls get together at the firing range and fire some guns while talking about the book we've read," Darcy explained. "We don't call it a book club since all of us are bad ass chicks and bad ass chicks do have knitting club but no book club, it's not cool enough."

"Oh, then I'd be delighted," Mrs. Pucci said. "I will be in contact with you. Goodbye, Darcy."

"Goodbye, Mrs. Pucci," Darcy said then walked out the doors. She reached into a pocket in her jacket and took out a Sharpie and a pad of Post-its she kept on her.

She kissed the top Post-it, uncapped the Sharpie to draw an arrow pointing to the right under her lip print then stuck it to a nearby mail box. She stuffed the items back into her pocket before heading in the direction the arrow pointed. It only took for her to reach the far corner when she heard the throaty growl of an engine. She turned to see Guerrero behind the wheel of a black Dodge Charger, all smooth lines and armored body.

He stopped the car at the curb and waited for her to get in. She slid into the passenger's seat but didn't say anything as he pulled into traffic. Darcy knew Guerrero's first play was to out wait her in silence to get her to crack. He'd be waiting a long time since Coulson trained her himself and she lived with Clint, the man only secondary at overwhelming silence.

She could afford an hour in his car while the Avengers traveled to South America before she caught the waiting Quinjet at Stark's private air field. The Helicarrier would take her to New York and allow for her to keep in contact with her team in route.

At the half hour mark Guerrero pulled into an abandoned parking lot near the air field. Darcy unbuckled her seat belt and got out of the car. She removed her jacket to place it on the roof. He got out and came to her side of the car. Without a word, he rifled through her jacket.

"There's a thin knife in my right boot, on the outside," Darcy warned him before she braced her hands against the car and spread her legs.

The first thing Coulson ever taught her about counter interrogation was 'know your interrogator' but Guerrero wasn't a typical interrogator. She'd never seen him at work; only read the reports speculating on his methodology. He always went for psychological fear first then resorted to physical afterwards. He patted her down then slid his hands under the hem of her shirt to begin his search for wires.

She shivered at his searching touch, felt his heat at her back and ignored the temptation to press back against him. Most men would've been receptive to the gesture but Guerrero wasn't most men, in fact, he was not even in the same proverbial ball park. The temptation to give in to the sensation of his callused fingers over her skin warred with her desire to move. Instead she held as still as she could until he finished and stepped back.

"Talk," he said, eyes flat. "Make it quick, dude."

"I didn't expect you to be there since you usually miss meetings according to Mrs. Pucci's notes," Darcy said. She neglected to mention how it'd been extremely easy to bypass his firewalls on Mrs. Pucci's personal PC. "I had no idea who you worked with until I read your files a week ago. All files on Jack-"

Guerrero's face went blank. His body tensed and coiled.

"All the files on Jack," Darcy repeated. "Are gone from every server I could access with JARVIS and if someone goes looking they find a file containing a Llamas with Hats video. Come with me, I'll give you access to SHIELD's network on the Helicarrier, you can check my Intel."

"Or execute me like a freak," he echoed the words she'd heard the CIA spook tell his team; Fury accessed all the recordings on the attack.

"A freak? What do you think my team is? I have a man with daddy issues and who blows up his lab twice a day for science, a Norse alien who loves buffets and has a complicated relationship with his psycho brother. By the way, I had to rehabilitate said psycho brother. Two emotionally constipated master assassins, a mild mannered guy who does amazing amounts of property damage if he hits his funny bone the wrong way. And oh yeah, my Star Spangled grandfather who was a national icon in World War II. Recently defrosted and in culture shock," Darcy ranted, crossed her arms. "Not to mention the fact my cousin Jake looks exactly like Steve and heals quickly but his rogue spec ops team is embroiled in some shit storm that my team is on its way to go help clear up."

Guerreo didn't flinch.

"Then there's me," she continued on. "I was an intern who ended up at the wrong place at what seems to be the right time because I would not trade my job for anything. Even though the popular rumor is that I got it on my back. I didn't get the healing or the super strength but I am fucking smart."

"Think you can change me?" Guerrero challenged. "Bring me over to the side of the good guys?"

"Why would I want to change you? I'm attracted to you for you, Guerrero. Sure, your morality is probably frowned on in certain circles and your job not one that I'd write home about. I'll probably have to tell my mom you're a janitor or something like that," she said. "I know you or as much as you've let me see and I don't care about what you do to make the dinero. I want you for you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my new job. When it comes to this thing between us I'm making it up as I go along."

She felt physically exhausted along with emotionally. Darcy leaned back against the Charger, letting it take her weight.

Her cards on the table face up and reinforced with her words.

His move.

* * *

Guerrero stared at her, tried to find a lie on her face and in her movements. None screamed at him, only exhaustion and what looked like defiant hope. He wanted to believe she'd been running a con on him. The only problem being he'd met her before her integration into SHIELD. He originally thought her to be some empty headed coed or an emotionally awkward girl like Ames.

In place of his expectation he found someone who, despite liking loaded cheese fries, managed to engage him in an intelligent conversation that started with how the current New York Bestseller list needed improvement and ended with complaining about the new microchips used in passports. She read a lot and he found that attractive. He never planned on taking the napkin with her email written on it.

He never planned on emailing her.

But he did.

And she answered at great length.

Then she started to send care packages.

Chance was the one who took leaps of faith, not Guerrero. He never got attached to women romantically. Ames only impressed him by snapping back at him and earning the privilege of being his protégé. Ilsa earned his respect by putting up with his "quirks" rather than attempting to fire him but Darcy…well…Darcy came in her own flavor of extremely dangerous.

In a moment of insanity he invited her to Jack's birthday party then a month later found out she worked for a covert agency. It froze the blood in his veins. She'd been in the house his son lived in, slept in and the boy loved her. Jack always asked about Darcy whenever Guerrero called.

Usually in his line of work, significant others were difficult. If Chance's track record could be a prime example of everything that could go wrong in a relationship but Darcy wasn't some doe eyed damsel in distress. If she managed to purge Jack from the CIA database then she had the skills to be a major power player or the resources to start her own cartel.

He hated how she made him want to have faith. To have faith made him feel human and he hated that even more. Yet he wanted to try to have faith in her. Physically he found her extremely appealing. It'd be easier on him if the thing between them originated on the basis of her looks not her as a whole package.

Choice. It always came down to choice. It made him choose to help Chance, to take on Ames as an apprentice. And now he had the choice to get in his car and drive away from her. Darcy wouldn't chase him.

The idea of an "Or" never crossed his mind since his body decided to make the decision for him rather than waiting for his brain to catch up. Guerrero took the two steps into her personal space, trapped her by gripping her waist and sealed his lips over hers. He half expected her to shove him away. Her hands went to hold his face, thumbs caressed his cheek bones. He pressed closer to her, crushed her against the car.

Darcy moved to bury her hands in his hair as the tip of her tongue touched his lips. The merc opened his mouth and his tongue rose to twine in hers. There were pin pricks of welcomed pain all over his scalp from her grip.

"Come to New York," Darcy whispered against his lips. The promise in her voice enough to make him blank out and forget the survival habits he spent years establishing. "Guerrero, please-"

"In a couple of days," Guerrero promised. "I'll escort Ilsa. Stick around for a while. Sound good, dude?"

"Can't exactly leave right after I do. You'll have to make awkward water cooler talk," Darcy said and dropped her hands to lock around the back of her neck. "Like a normal employee. Next you'll be Xeroxing your ass at the company Christmas party."

"Chance hates Christmas. You need to get goin' before someone calls the office," Guerrero sighed then let his eyes slide closed again. He felt something he never thought he'd be able to feel.

Peace.


End file.
